I’m going to admit something.. you probably already know, but something I’ve kept hidden from myself. Its how I process, I know this.. I just… well.. its hard to see what you’re hiding from yourself, because… well.. you’re hiding it from yourself.

See how that works?

I’ve been trying to re-build my life for years, with the most progress happening this last year since the divorce. I may or may not have had a “breakdown” years ago. Its hard to say, and never was diagnosed. But looking back, I have to wonder.

All I know is that somewhere along the way, I forgot how to be a functional human being. I honestly blame my ex, but in reality I should blame myself. I stayed where I should have fled.

I’m discovering little things on my road back to humanity. I forgot what it was like to take joy in doing something for absolutely no reason other than I wanted to. I forgot what it was like to actually get a real paycheck for real services rendered. I forgot that pride.

People used to call me “Monica”.. remember Monica from friends.. she was OCD, reserved, a great cook. Everything had its place. It drove her crazy when something wasn’t where it belonged.

Thats how I used to be. Seriously. Everything had its place. Somehow during the battle with my ex (who believed that everything went wherever he decided to leave it, and that fairies would move it back to its spot), up until even today, that particular OCD has gone away. (not fully, but for the most part yes.)

I was actually having a conversation with my best friend where she began to talk about how she now has my OCD… well not exactly, she’s much more of a clean-freak than I ever was. I started looking around my apartment and realized that.. I no longer have any of the “functional” parts of my OCD.

Seriously, its like apathy has taken over OCD. Like I am (was) functioning defeated. Like I’d given up.

So I’ve decided that I’m going to get it back. I’m happier with things in their place. I’m happier with a cleaner/neater apartment.

And so, I’ve been slowly digging myself out of this hole I’ve built. I can almost see my dining room table again.

I’m making a new list of “rules” and will be practicing doing them until I get back to where I was… ok maybe not the insane OCD crap.. but functional. Where I can have someone over maybe without saying “Oh, umm.. just close your eyes.”

(Btw, I have managed to rid myself of my “I need this” hoarding OCD, which I am not seeking to take up again. Thanks but that’s one I can do just fine without.)

**** For you that are grossing yourselves out with your imaginations, please understand that my mess is clean mess. I don’t have left over food containers all over, or crumbs everywhere. Its just old things to get rid of, papers to file, clothes to give to goodwill.. and some canned goods to put away.

There is nothing like a good fight. Ok… arguement.. discussion.. whatever you want to call it when two people disagree, voice it, and come to a resolution.. hopefully without killing each other or causing undue bodily or emotional/mental harm.

I like a good arguement. Not all the time. Not every day. But when the time it is right, the subject is right, then yes.. a good arguement.

I’ve always known the importance of disagreement. Partly from my parents who when I was a child disagreed often and probably more so than was healthy. But they worked it out, and this is eventually what I took away from it.

Then came the ex.. He disagreed on nothing. A few times he’d disagree, and I’d start to get into my arguing mode producing my evidence for my stance, and he’d back down. I assumed (wrongly) that because he did so.. that the subject was not important or that I’d turned him to agree with me.

What I didn’t know.. and didn’t understand.. is that while I understood good arguements and resolution.. He didn’t.

While I love his father.. it wasn’t until way late in the marriage when I realized that it was his father who taught him this. His father taught him to back down to any confrontation from a woman. If she said it.. she got her way. Period. (Partly this is because his mother is a lunatic..)

So I was left most of the marriage trying to get out of my ex what it was that he wanted. I tried coaxing it out of him. I tried giving him options of compromises that I’d agree to.. to which he merely let me do whatever it was I wanted.. all the while myself knowing that he had an opinion he just didn’t want to share it.

He refused to tell me things that might possibly in some way of any kind.. upset me. Sometimes these were minor things.. he’d broken a glass.. and sometimes these were major things.. the company was downsizing or there was something wrong with his health.

To most people.. he’d be considered a nice guy.. to me, he was a doormat. Passive-aggressive. His way of dealing (by not dealing) caused me more stress than anything. I worried. I fretted. I nearly drove myself crazy trying to get answers out of him.

Then I gave up. Really. He said it was ok to get whatever curtains I wanted. I would. I stopped consulting him on things. I did whatever I wanted. He did whatever he wanted. We had our routine and stuck to that. I pretended not to care.. until I really didn’t anymore.

Probably needless to say that we drifted apart. The thing is.. the relationship probably could have been salvaged.. if only we’d had that fight. We had the anger anyway. We had the resentment. We just never had the resolution.

Since then, I’ve noticed how that has changed me. Downside: I don’t press people for anything anymore (which often means I don’t ask anyone any questions and it can look like I don’t care). Upside: If someone doesn’t answer me, or doesn’t want to talk to me.. I move on without care to someone who does.

But I also find myself really liking a good argument (not a forced argument.. don’t be silly and try to make a fight) where both viewpoints are expressed.. I find myself respecting the other person a whole ton.. and sometimes finding them sexy where before I did not.

Its not about arguing for arguement’s sake.. its about the freedom to express yourself and your partner feeling free to express themselves.. its not about the conflict.. its about your ability to have it and still come to a resolution.

Its not the fight.. its the making up. Its about honesty. Its about trust. Its about making sure you’re both on the same path… Together.

It’s not real love. Ok, it might be a start at real love.. you know.. “The first time I saw him, I knew….” blah blah blah.. But basically this is mostly of my own imagination.

To be honest, the first time I saw him reading me.. I swooned. I mean really.. what is a guy like that doing reading a girl like me?

But its not all romantic dreamy.. He has his flaws. Flaws that only make him more human and lovable. His flaws are like scar wounds. Things that show where he’s been and how he’s pulled through. Things that show he knows that balance between work and play, reponsibility and irresponsibility, love and.. war.

There is nothing I’ve learned of him so far that hasn’t endeared me to him.

I mostly admire him from afar. I read him. I’ve looked at his pictures. I’ve heard his voice.

I see his IP showing that he’s read me, and I smile. It brightens my day. He comments on something I posted, and my heart does a little flitter.

But when I think about possibly meeting him.. and all the things that a real relationship entails, I start to panic at all the things that threaten to shatter this happy silly girl love.

He’s a dream of a reality that I’m not ready to experience. So I’ve not pushed things or tried to make things more than the ethereal dream they are right now. I’m not ready for this dream to end, or for reality to come crashing in.

Its my silly little girl fantasy. My hope in a box.

For now its enough, this little love from afar, flirting play we’re in. Maybe someday, I’ll be brave enough for more.

So the other night, I’m out at a hockey game. My first ever hockey game either on TV or live.

If you’ve been a long time reader, you’ve been privy to my hatred of nearly all sports. A deep seated hatred based in lots of years of being tortured with it, and being second choice to it. (Dear men, if your partner is second choice to any sporting event.. except maybe the final game like the SuperBowl.. Please go seek help right now.)

So when Hock invited me to go (as a friend thing), I really wanted to say no. I feared the worst. I feared being ignored and bored and lost. I feared I wouldn’t cheer at the right spots or worse cheer for the opposing team accidentally. I feared that it would be torture.

But I wanted to see Hock ((to see if.. well to really know for certain if that booty-text was his real feelings on the subject). I’d never seen a hockey game, so it was at least something new to try.

So I went. I’m glad I did. (despite it encouraging yesterdays post)

I’ll admit at first I wasn’t that into it. I sat there and tried to get my bearings. I’d played some floor hockey in gym in high school, so I knew the basics. But grasping what actually was happening on the floor, and who did what.. and where the hell did that puck go (Half the time even the refs didn’t know where it went either. That I found immensely funny, btw.) was a bit overwhelming.

There were points where I thought I should cheer, but no one else was, so I didn’t. There were points where everyone was cheering and I was still trying to figure out why.

But Hock was great to watch it with. He was patient and nice and not condescending. He explained some finer points of the game and explained some players relationships/personalities which made the game much more interesting and intriguing.

I have to also admit that there’s something sexy about a man cheering his team with a positive attitude and not getting all sore (man-pouting) because things aren’t going exactly the way he wanted. Seriously at one point I nearly cowgirl’d Hock in his seat, fortunately I have self-restraint. Though that could just be a Hock thing, as most of the time when he was talking I just wanted to go over and kiss the crap out of him. (yes I know.. I already said I had a problem yesterday)

It is going to take me years I think to fully appreciate hockey as a sport, but I had a great time much to my own surprise.

So maybe all sports aren’t dead to me. Oh, and games are much much better with lots of company and booze. Especially if that company is sexy.

I just wanted to let you know that we all get that you have kids. You’ve let us know, and we’re cool with it. Some of us might absolutely love it.

But what we don’t want right now, especially before ever meeting your child, is the cutsie play by play of what adorable thing your child did just now or earlier.

If its not something that will have everyone in the world rolling with laughter, such as your daughter just flipped off your boss by showing him her owie.. then we don’t need to know and probably don’t want to know.

We do want to know about you. So if your child is suffering from cancer, yeah we want to know because its going to affect you. If you spent the entire day at a theme park with your child and are exhausted, yeah we want to know. What we don’t need to know about is the evenings you two spent building a tower only to knock it down, or the time you and your little girl washed each others hair and how you let her comb yours. Let alone a play by play of either of those events.

While those moments are precious, they’re also private moments between the two of you. We’re not a family yet, so please don’t feed us these stories on an ongoing basis. It will either make us crazy to belong to the family, or make us feel like an outsider. Neither of which you want. Trust me.

What you do want, and what we want.. is to see if the two of us fit together. That requires getting to know you. Not just the parent you, but the you at work, the you at play, and just YOU. Only once we’ve figured out if we’re a good fit, are we even going to want to venture into your family. And only if we’re a good fit should you even let us.

So please.. stop texting me the play by play of how cute you are with your kid.

My anxiety about him wanting to date increased every time I thought of him. I am no where near that yet, not with him, not with anyone. Especially not with him actually.

I keep thinking that I might be, or that I want to be, then I start thinking about all the complications. Seat up, Seat Down, Dish washing methodology, Laundry methodology, How clean to keep the house, How dirty to keep the house, Moving (Luke has already stated I’d have to move to where he is – panic), Giving up things, Compromises… the list goes on.. and I start having trouble breathing or thinking straight. All I want to do is RUN!

But how do you say that to a guy without sounding like a complete lunatic?

I did my best..

L – “Just saying hi. Haven’t heard from ya”

(our last conversation was 48 hours ago, and I started to feel pressured, but I pretended to be ok)

M – “Oh was I supposed to keep in touch? Hi!”

L – “Well ya if you wanted to… guess you don’t :)”

(is it just me or did that come off as passive-aggressive? Insert more anxiety for me)

M – “Are you playing games? Testing me?”

(seriously we just started talking again, and in 48 hours you’re all this??)

L – “Testing you? Not that I’m aware of. Suppose if I did you failed :)”

He then goes into blah blah boring stuff (to you all) about his work and asks about my day (more boring stuff), then this..

L – “Was thinking about ya last night”

M – “Uh oh”

L – “Ya.. I’ll not give you the details but it was highly pornographic.. I know you’re less then interested. But I figured I would tell ya”

(Am I making shit up, or is this passive aggressive crapola again? No where did I say I wasn’t interested, just that it was too soon to “date” – my anxiety went all sorts of haywire)

M – “Less than interested? What in the world was I doing?”

(I can handle filthy talk, just not relationship talk. Please take the hint)

L – “No I meant you less than interested in me being pervy with you”

(again, where in the hell did I say this? Now I’m angry with anxiety. Yay me)

M – “Uh huh I know what you meant. I was ignoring your attempt at putting words in my mouth”

M – “So what did I do?”

L – “Its not what you did exactly… its more of what I was doing to you 🙂 you know you make it hard to flirt with you”

M – “I try 🙂 So what were you doing then?”

He dodges the question nicely by telling me how sexy I was in a corset and that I looked good from all sorts of positions. He refused to give details. Asshole. 🙂

M – “Well that was very anti-climatic :P”

L – “lol not for you it wasn’t.. repeatedly I might say”

(I got a chuckle out of that I must say)

He then mentioned that I was jaded..

M – ” 😛 Yes I’m very jaded :)”

L – “Lol I think you need to let go of the jaded or this may be really hard :)”

(If I could just “get over it” like that I would. I’ve got damage. Sue me.)

M – “I thought hard was your thing”

L – “lol You know what I mean”

M – “Nope, no idea :)”

L – “So is this just you playing hard to get? :)”

(insert panic)

M – “Nope. Not playing anything. Just livin”

L – “Well its certainly hard to tell if you’re interested or not”

(insert freakout and trying to breathe, so I decide to be honest and try to phrase it right)

M – “Maybe that’s cuz I’m not as far along the road as you are. You seem impatient for me to say I’m interested which is making me feel more like retreating than moving forward”

M – “I’m just getting used to talking to you again”

M – “Trying to enjoy that without the “where’s this going” mentality”

(Huge weight off my shoulders, then I panic about him possibly being insulted, then I relax as I remind myself if he gets insulted thats his issue and he can f’off)

L – “Well at least you told me how you feel. Exactly what I needed from you.”

I honestly have no idea what that means, but I think things are fine as his next few messages were about the cutsie things his 2 yr old was doing. It was a very boring play by play of bathing and playing with dolls which bored even me.

The conversation ended with me telling him to go have fun with his daughter.

If you remember, I posted about my adventure with Hock a week or so ago, and I mentioned that I thought he was a relationship guy and that he had some kind pain or trauma he was hiding.

He does. I asked him about it actually. One of those dreaded.. “Why are you single?” questions.

A few months ago, he got out of a bad relationship. He now wants to be a bad boy and get out there and just have some fun.

Picturing him as a bad boy cracks me up. Hilarious.

He was honest with me about not wanting to date, and to be honest after the whole Luke thing, not dating never sounded so good. So we had a good chat about how neither of us is wanting to date right now.

He has yet to ask me about myself btw. Which I find strange and yet comforting. I hate talking about me (I know you don’t believe me) and its oddly comforting that he seems to care less about my past. Meaning that with him I can completely escape and be whomever I want to be.

Maybe Cleopatra.. Hmmm…

A few days later, he sent me an invite to a party he’s throwing that some of our mutual friends are going to as well. Its not a date.. just an invite.

I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to go. There’s a $18 fee to get in, which he didn’t offer to pay, and I’m not sure I can afford (or should afford?) right now. I don’t really want him to pay either, as then it would feel like a date and I’m sure my anti-dating anxiety would get started.. it would change the entire tone of the event.

So I may go.. or I may not. I just don’t know. But it is nice that he wants to see me.

I’d been getting worried about myself the last week or month really. I began wondering if I was turning into some kind of sociopath or something as I couldn’t seem to access my emotions. I wanted to cry sometimes but couldn’t. Things that should have had me rolling on the floor would merely make me smile or just not phase me at all.

I’d been thinking about the ex often. Not in a romantic way, but more so in an angry wishing him harm kind of way. I found myself containing volumes of anger and bitterness, and I didn’t like it one bit but also felt powerless to do anything about it.

To be honest what really scared me the most was that night with Hock. He’d be sweet and thoughtful.. giving actually.. and instead of triggering the same in me, I found myself getting angry. It was sweet stuff that threatened to melt my heart, and I resisted it. I didn’t want to feel anything, and I found myself angry at Hock for making me even try to feel anything.

All this last week, the slightest kind thing on TV or clip forwarded to me from Youtube, and I’d get choked up.

Then last night’s Glee. The dam burst and I cried like a baby through the entire show. At first, it was the small little touching moments of the show that got my tears flowing, but somewhere in the middle I just broke down and cried, a hard uncontrollable sob-fest.

I think its the first real big cry I’ve had since we’d started the whole divorce process (well once I knew it was really divorce), let alone the first big cry since the divorce.

All that anger, resentment, stress, fear, etc… finally bubbled back to the surface and let itself out.

After the show was over, I cried a little more then dried my tears. I felt better. I felt human.

I’ve reached a point of clarity I think. Or at least I feel like I have a plan, a goal, something to work for..

Mostly, I have hope which has been lacking in the last few weeks, and a very observant man told me that a depressing theme has ran through this blog lately. Hopefully, that is now over. (Everyone cross your fingers.)

Since my ex left, I’ve been in a recovery from the tailspin. For many reasons which I’ve not gone into detail here, and I most likely won’t, I’ve not had a good long-term outlook for potential employment. It was part of the reason that I was a housewife.

To put it simply…

Worst case scenario: I may end up living in a bubble (almost literally).. meaning I may not be able to leave my home except for extenuating circumstances.

Best case scenario: I may never need to worry about any of this ever again, and can do whatever, whenever I want with no worries.

Best case scenario right now though is more of a fantasy than a reality, which is what I was trying to get at in my previous post about Self-Analysis. I cannot plan on it.

I did realize the other day that I instead can make the best of this bad situation, so for the last several days I’ve been brainstorming career moves.

If I’m going to be saddled with living in a bubble, its going to be the Taj Mahal of bubbles, damn it! (So I need to pull in some dough)

Once I embraced this, and embraced that I am currently alone and can’t expect others to build it for me.. (and discarded a bunch of self-pity I’d been holding onto)

I began to feel empowered in a way I’ve not felt since this whole bubble thing first was threatened on me. I’ve always been a “I can do it myself” person. Even from infancy, but somewhere along the road I forgot it.

I also began thinking of all the things I want to do, and things I’ve been wanting to do for a while now. Business plans, projects, and philanthropic ventures. As I began thinking about those, I would discard one after another for either being a pipedream (inventing shoes that constantly keep your feet at a suitable temperature is a bit out of my skill-set) and other ideas because they would require work from others which I cannot pay for right now.

Most of this work that I would need someone else to do is computer related and something that would have been in the skillset of my ex or several of my exes.

I also realized that I don’t really have a tech guy in the wings that I can run to for these things as I’ve always had in the past. I ran through my memories of past relationships and almost every computer problem or upgrade or even building a new machine… was done either by a guy in my life or with the supervision of a guy in my life.

Despite the fact that since I discovered the internet in 1992 (I think that was the year) I’ve never been without a computer and have always spent a good portion of every day on one… I myself have never really sought out learning more about them (unless I needed to.. I like to do things myself, so yes I made them teach me the stuff I needed to know) and in part have been spoon fed everything I know about whats new in computers from the guys I’ve dated.

This spoon-feeding is gone. I left my network of “go-to” geeks in Chicago, and lost touch with many of them as they married and as I married. With my ex no longer in the picture, there is this gaping tech hole.

I think part of the reason I love tech-geeks is that I really do like computers. But like mowing the lawn or changing the oil in my car, I’ve considered it a guy’s job. Not that I couldn’t do it, but a skill-set that I was lacking.

And if I’m honest.. I also think it was partly a way for me to be that “Damsel in distress” and a way for them to be the “Hero”.

I know this was the case with my ex. When my ex and I got together, I was pretty tech-savvy for the time period. Hardware mostly, but tech-savvy. When we got married, I sort of dropped the tech. He had a Masters in computers and could spin circles around me… he also didn’t have the patience to teach me anything and preferred to be the “Hero”.. So I let him and I concentrated my efforts on my skills that he was lacking. And had the relationship worked, this division of labor would have been ok.

So there’s a void in my geek contact. Majorly. And part of me wants to fill that void with a nice tech-savvy sexy geek.

But as I thought about it, geeks and me haven’t had the most successful track-record. Do I really want to limit my dating pool that much? Is it really realistic? Isn’t it a bit too superficial?

Anyway, it dawned on me that I really like working with computers. So I began investigating careers, and what it would take for me to get some skills to make a living.

The more I read. The more I loved it. The more excited I got.

I’ve always thought of myself as a geek-wannabe or a geek-groupie, but what I’m starting to realize is that I really am a geek.

and

I really don’t need someone else to be geek for me.. I can do it myself!

In light of DateDaily’s article about the guy who broke up with his girlfriend solely because she had too many partners…

I thought I’d do a confessional to scare off any and all would-be suitors.

I just want you all to know… all you guys out there.. I’ve been with 40 men myself (around there anyway).

*pausing for you all to start the name calling and get it over with*

My marriage did not end because I couldn’t keep it in pants. I can. I went a whole 5 solid years of marriage abstinent out of respect for the marriage… and trust me.. I like sex.

Yet, people are still assuming stupid things based on a number.

I have never had an STD, VD, whatever. I’ve never gotten crabs either. I’ve checked. I do have Herpes simplex 1? The cold sore one. I got it from my mother at birth. Though I’ve never in my life had a cold sore. I’m always extra-safe as I do not and never have used birth control pills. (I know *gasp*, but funny how you mention you’re not on the pill how much more willingly guys don a condom)

Just so you all know.. Most of that 40 have been one night stands, whether I liked it or not. Some of those one night stands were first date sex where I really just went with the moment and he never called again. Some were guys that I wanted to bed, but a relationship would have been out of the question. Some were just moments of drunken insanity.. like the time I slept with the lead singer of a band traveling through town. (He was hot, shut up.)

Since my ex left over a year ago, I’ve had 5 partners. Six if you count the guy who couldn’t get it up. Four of those within the first 6 months after. (yes, I like to get right back up on the horse)

Am I completely done with one night stands? Have I moved past that period in my life?

For the most part, yes. But that doesn’t mean that one of these times I might get carried away with some guy and just do what feels right in the moment.

I’m no longer the naive girl I once was, sleeping with men to win their love or to keep a relationship.

I’ve grown up. I’ve learned. I know what I need. I know (for the most part) what I want.

And every notch in that bedpost has lead me to where I am now. Each notch is special.

So throw your stones if you will. It doesn’t matter to me.

I am who I am. Thats not going to change because you think I should be someone else.